Shit, son, it's summer
I should probably not be writing this now as I have a lovely eye-strainy headache of the stabbing pain above my right eye variety, but I'm bored, oh well. And I have twenty more minutes until I can go home and enjoy the lovely weather we are finally having.
Speaking of going home, yesterday I was leaving a few minutes before everyone else and I was suddenly overcome with a powerful urge to yell "Fuck all y'all, I'm going home!" I didn't, of course, because a: I don't want to get fired and b: I'm not Southern and I really can't make that sound the way it did in my head. (Seriously, I tried later on and my beige Canadianness just made it sound lame.) But it set me wondering where these weird little destructive impulses come from. I think we all have them - that little voice that suggests the perfect thing to say to a boss or a teacher that will be satisfying for the second and a half before all hell breaks loose, or that thought of "What if I stepped off this metro platform when the train is coming" or "What if I jumped off this extremely tall building/cliff" etc. They are (in most cases) things that we have no trouble actually stopping ourselves from doing, but why is there a part of our brain considering it in the first place?
In other news, interesting things are happening. I've pretty much decided I'm going to apply to JET for next year, which means that if all goes according to plan, this time next year I'll be moving to Japan. I'm still a little freaked out at the prospect but I've decided to just keep talking about it until it sounds real and doable and not pants-shittingly scary. And I know that if I ever actually want to get into translation then my Japanese needs to be way better than it is now and that's only going to happen with a couple years of actually living in Japan.
Also my random greenification without actually doing it on purpose continues! I've decided to go off the pill, since I've been on it for nearly ten years (Shit, really? Dude, I feel old.) and I haven't been "needing" it for the past few and I'm kind of interested to see what my body's like without chemical interventions. Also Todger Talk said something about it messing with your sense of smell so that you end up in relationships with people who have incompatible pheromones, so that when you eventually go off the pill you're like "This guy's repulsive! What was I thinking?" and for some reason this had a greater effect on me than all the blood clot, stroke, cancer, etc. etc. stats. (Incidentally Todger Talk is the most awesome and hilarious sex blog I've found recently, check it out if you get a chance.) So yeah. I'm still technically on the "rest" period so my body doesn't technically know I'm off the pill yet I guess, but as of Sunday I will be pill-free. (I was doing some research and one woman said her body was so messed up she didn't get a period for A YEAR after she went off the pill, I hope it won't come to that as I would get extremely paranoid, not that there's been any hanky-panky going on, but that would be the time it would happen, wouldn't it?) Also, I have a mysterious plan that involves Batman in my pants. More details to follow (I hope).
Yay, time to go home! Have a good weekend, kids.
Speaking of going home, yesterday I was leaving a few minutes before everyone else and I was suddenly overcome with a powerful urge to yell "Fuck all y'all, I'm going home!" I didn't, of course, because a: I don't want to get fired and b: I'm not Southern and I really can't make that sound the way it did in my head. (Seriously, I tried later on and my beige Canadianness just made it sound lame.) But it set me wondering where these weird little destructive impulses come from. I think we all have them - that little voice that suggests the perfect thing to say to a boss or a teacher that will be satisfying for the second and a half before all hell breaks loose, or that thought of "What if I stepped off this metro platform when the train is coming" or "What if I jumped off this extremely tall building/cliff" etc. They are (in most cases) things that we have no trouble actually stopping ourselves from doing, but why is there a part of our brain considering it in the first place?
In other news, interesting things are happening. I've pretty much decided I'm going to apply to JET for next year, which means that if all goes according to plan, this time next year I'll be moving to Japan. I'm still a little freaked out at the prospect but I've decided to just keep talking about it until it sounds real and doable and not pants-shittingly scary. And I know that if I ever actually want to get into translation then my Japanese needs to be way better than it is now and that's only going to happen with a couple years of actually living in Japan.
Also my random greenification without actually doing it on purpose continues! I've decided to go off the pill, since I've been on it for nearly ten years (Shit, really? Dude, I feel old.) and I haven't been "needing" it for the past few and I'm kind of interested to see what my body's like without chemical interventions. Also Todger Talk said something about it messing with your sense of smell so that you end up in relationships with people who have incompatible pheromones, so that when you eventually go off the pill you're like "This guy's repulsive! What was I thinking?" and for some reason this had a greater effect on me than all the blood clot, stroke, cancer, etc. etc. stats. (Incidentally Todger Talk is the most awesome and hilarious sex blog I've found recently, check it out if you get a chance.) So yeah. I'm still technically on the "rest" period so my body doesn't technically know I'm off the pill yet I guess, but as of Sunday I will be pill-free. (I was doing some research and one woman said her body was so messed up she didn't get a period for A YEAR after she went off the pill, I hope it won't come to that as I would get extremely paranoid, not that there's been any hanky-panky going on, but that would be the time it would happen, wouldn't it?) Also, I have a mysterious plan that involves Batman in my pants. More details to follow (I hope).
Yay, time to go home! Have a good weekend, kids.